Love Letters
by caremkefo
Summary: Dean has been secretly crushing on Cas for months, and only his two best friends know. Then he starts leaving anonymous notes in Castiel's locker for him...


"You're hopelessly in love," Charlie observed.

Dean straightened in his seat and tore his gaze from Cas Novak. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

"It'd be cute if it wasn't so pathetic," Jo teased, nudging Dean playfully.

"I'm not pathetic!"

"You spend your lunch break staring at Cas."

"You stare at his ass when he's walking in front of you."

"You sit in your car at the end of the day but don't drive home until everybody's left in case he walks past your car."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't doodle your initials in the back of your notebook surrounded by little love hearts!"

"Alright, alright!, I'm pathetic!" Dean said, belatedly realising that he should have denied the last one. "Remind me again why you're my two best friends?"

"Because we're the only one's who'll put up with your obsessive pining?"

"Great, thanks," he replied sarcastically.

"It's because we love you and you love us," Jo told him with a smile.

"In a strictly non-hetero way," Charlie added.

"That makes no sense, because I'm gay and you're girls."

"Huh. That sounded better in my head."

"You meant platonic," Jo informed her.

"Gotcha. Computer coding is so much easier than English."

"Only for geeks like you," Dean teased fondly.

"Says the nerd who came LARPing with me at the weekend!"

"Dean, you went _LARPing_?"

"And he loved it," Charlie grinned. "But speaking of coding I need to speak to Mr Devereaux before computing, so peace out, bitches!"

Jo and Dean returned her Vulcan salute and turned back to their food.

"You went LARPing?" Jo repeated.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled, moving his food around his plate with his fork.

"Aren't you going to eat that?"

"I'm not hungry."

Immediately Jo had the back of her hand pressed against his forehead.

"Get off!"

"If Dean Winchester isn't eating it's either because he's ill or the world is ending. Which is it?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course I can!" Jo looked positively offended at the question.

"I mean even from Charlie."

Her eyes went wide. "Okay."

"I fucked up big time."

"What did you do?"

"IwroteCasanotetellinghimthatIllkedhimbutIdidn'tsignaname," he said in a rush.

Jo blinked several times. "Okay, and again in English?"

He took a breath. "I wrote Cas a note telling him that I liked him and I put it in his locker."

"But you didn't sign it?"

"No."

She leaned back in her seat. "Wow," she said eventually.

"That's it? 'Wow'?"

"What did you expect me to say?"

"I don't know."

"If you'd signed your name I'd have said you've got balls."

"I've got balls," he grinned. "You wanna see them?"

"I'll tell my mom you said that."

"Don't you dare."

She laughed. "I can't believe you're _still_ afraid of my mother!"

"She's scary."

"She's a pussy cat. Most of the time."

"Exactly - _most of the time_. Sometimes she's a mountain lion."

Jo laughed even harder. "Come on, loser. I need to go to my locker on the way to class."

Dean automatically glanced up for one last look at Cas before they left, but he was gone. "Where'd Cas go?"

"His locker, probably," Jo grinned.

"No, Jo-"

"You said it yourself, you didn't sign it! Don't you want to see the look on his face when he reads it?"

"No," Dean said, thinking that Cas would probably show his friends and they'd all have a good laugh.

"Yes, you do. Now move your butt."

Reluctantly Dean grabbed his bag and carried his tray over to the shelving rack, scraping his leftovers into the trash before sliding it into an empty slot.

. * * * .

It felt like his heart was beating an unsteady rhythm in his chest as he followed Jo to the locker area, and every time he tried to slow down Jo would grab his arm and pull him along.

"You're hurting my arm," he complained the third time she grabbed him in a vice-like grip.

"Then keep up!"

He jerked his arm free as they turned the corner and saw Cas chatting to his friends in front of his locker.

"I could always meet you in geography," he said, taking a step towards the stairs.

"Oh, grow a pair!" she snapped. "Hold my bag."

He fumbled and caught the bag that was thrown at him, standing dutifully beside her as she swapped books between her locker and her bag, his attention focused solely on Cas.

"Maybe he didn't see it," Dean suggested hopefully.

"Or maybe he's been too busy talking that he hasn't gone into his locker yet. What did it say?" she asked.

"I'm not telling you that" he hissed.

"Fine, fine. Maybe I'll just go and ask Cas."

"Damn it! Alright," he said, casting a furtive look around to make sure no-one was in earshot. "It just said that I think he's gorgeous, okay?"

Jo almost looked disappointed. "You had a chance to tell him how you felt and you settled for 'you're gorgeous'?" She whacked him over the head with a textbook. "What's wrong with you?!"

"Ow!"

"You're an idiot, Winches-" She cut off mid-sentence and started slapping his arm. "He's opening his locker, he's opening his locker, he's opening his locker!" she chanted in a hushed tone.

Dean shifted to lean against the lockers so that he could look without being too obvious, and when Cas pulled out a physics textbook he saw a piece of paper flutter to the floor.

"Oh, shit," Jo breathed.

Dean held his breath as Castiel swung his locker door shut again.

"He didn't see it," Jo said.

Anxiety knotted in Dean's stomach as Cas turned to walk away, but Jo's fingers dug painfully into his arm as Benny tapped Cas on the shoulder and pointed at the note. Castiel looked down at it and frowned, but bent to pick it up. Confusion clouded his face as he read the note and Dean forgot to breathe.

Then Cas smiled.

Dean hastily pretended to be talking to Jo when Cas looked around the locker area, as if hoping for a clue as to who had sent the note, so he didn't see what Cas did with the scrap of paper. When he finally risked looking back again it was just in time to see Cas and his friends walk away.

Jo beamed at Dean. "He smiled!"

Dean stared at where Cas had been standing seconds ago, relief flooding his system and a disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He hadn't laughed. Cas didn't know who the note was from, but he hadn't laughed. Delirious laughter bubbled up in his throat.

"Oh shit," he breathed. He turned to Jo. "Now what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I was never a part of this plan. But maybe we can figure it out in geography."

. * * * .

Dean cast a second look around the empty locker area. Jo's brilliant plan had been to send another note. He wasn't sure exactly what she was hoping to achieve, but here he was with a scrap of paper in his hand that had _I like the way your tie never sits straight_ written on it and he was about to slip into Castiel's locker.

It had been a few days since he'd put the last one in, and Jo kept shooting him knowing smiles every time he looked at Cas. Charlie was starting to get suspicious that something was up, but so far Jo had kept his secret.

He slotted the note into the locker and settled under the stairs to read the next chapter of Catching Fire. Who cared if it was a book aimed at teenage girls? Charlie had lent him her copy of The Hunger Games, insisting that he read it, and he'd gotten sucked into Katniss Everdeen's world.

In just over ten minutes the bell would ring signalling the end of class, and hundreds of hungry students would be heading to lunch.

. * * * .

Twenty minutes later Jo plonked herself down beside him and passed him a burger.

"Well?" she asked.

"He just shoved his bag in his locker and went to lunch."

"He didn't see it?"

Dean shook his head.

"Damn." She cocked her head and looked at his book. "Are you _still_ reading that shit?"

"It's not that bad."

"I swear you're turning into a bigger girl than me," she complained. "Oh, and you're taking me to see The Winter Soldier on Saturday."

"I am?"

"Yes. We can ogle Chris Evans together."

"That almost sounds like a date," Charlie interrupted, squeezing into the too-small gap between Dean and Jo and forcing them to move to let her in. "But because it's not I'm inviting myself along so I can drool over Scarlett."

"Cool."

"Great! So what am I missing out on?"

"Nothing," Dean and Jo said in unison.

"It's not my birthday and Christmas is too far away so I know you're not discussing my present. Which, by the way, had better be something super-awesome when the time comes. Now spill."

"No way. Not even on pain of death," Dean shook his head vehemently.

"Fine," Charlie huffed. "I'll just tell Sam who you're big secret crush is on."

"You wouldn't!" Dean exclaimed.

"Try me."

They stared at each other, both waiting for the other to blink first, but Dean knew that if it came down to it he'd tell her. He trusted Charlie to keep her mouth shut more than he did his little brother.

Jo sighed. "Dean's sending love letters to Cas," she explained.

Charlie's jaw dropped. "What?"

"They're not love letters!" Dean exclaimed loudly.

"Shh!" Jo hushed him. "Do you want the whole school to hear you?"

"Love letters, Dean? Really?"

"They're more like love _notes_," he protested.

"Letters, notes, whatever," Jo said, shushing him. "In his locker."

"Okay, so when did this start?"

"Last week," Dean admitted.

"And did he get them?"

"It. Yeah."

"How did he react? Did you see him?"

"He smiled," Jo grinned.

"Does he know who it's from?"

"No," Dean and Jo said together.

"Okay. One last question - why are we sitting under the stairs?" She looked between her two friends, eyes flashing as she put the pieces together for herself. "You've sent him another one!" She rubbed her hands together gleefully. "I'm not going to ask what they say," she said, settling back to watch and wait for Cas to appear.

. * * * .

Dean was positively giddy as he made his way to English. Cas had found his note, and he'd smiled when he'd read it. Not a massive I-want-the-whole-world-to-know-how-happy-I-am one, but a small, secretive one, as if the contents of the notes were just between his admirer and himself.

It was a good thing Mr Shurley liked him because he couldn't manage to stay focused on Slaughterhouse-Five no matter how much he loved Vonnegut's work.

He didn't think the day could get any better, but on his way out to the car park at the end of the day Castiel accidentally bumped into him going through the door.

"Sorry," he muttered, barely glancing at Dean as he hurried past.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a swarm of butterflies coming to life in his stomach. "No, that's... Yeah," he said, talking to himself because Cas had already rushed off.

When he reached his car he slid into the seat and whipped out his phone.

**To: Jo, Charlie  
Cas literally walked into me :O**

Jo responded almost immediately.

**From: Jo  
You're pathetic. :(**

Charlie was only slightly more supportive.

**From: Charlie  
Did you at least cop a feel of his ass? ;)**

He sent three messages back to them in quick succession.

**To: Jo  
Fuck off**

**To: Charlie:  
I could barely speak let alone function enough to THINK about his ass.**

**To: Charlie  
It is a nice ass, tho! :D**

He jumped as Sam slid into the car beside him.

"You look happy," he observed as he buckled up.

"Better happy than sad," was all he said as he tucked his phone back in his pocket, ignoring it as it vibrated again. Whatever Charlie or Jo had to say could wait until they were home.

. * * * .

Every week Dean dropped more notes into Cas's locker, saying things like _Your tie brings out the colour of your eyes_ and _Your smile brightens up my day - I wish you'd smile more_. Never on the same day and never at the same time, however. But this time he was going one step further.

His hand shook as he slipped the sheet of paper that read _I really wish I could kiss you_ inside.

A thought struck him as he turned to walk away, and he hurried to pull his notebook and a pen out of his bag. Turning to the first blank page he scrawled, _If you'd let me, that is_, his hand shaking so much that he'd be surprised if Cas could read it. He shoved it into the locker as well and hurried away before the bell rang.

. * * * .

When he walked past Castiel's locker on the way to class two days later, he was surprised to see an envelope tucked in the door, half in and half out. Paranoia took over his brain. What if someone else was sending Cas notes as well? What if it was a note for _him_, asking if he'd please stop? What if Dean's last confession had made Cas uncomfortable?

He changed direction, heading for the toilets instead of the stairs, and locked himself in a cubicle. He sat on the toilet for ten minutes, waiting until he was sure everyone would be in class and the locker area would be empty. Only then did he venture out and return to Castiel's locker.

Nervously he took a closer look at the writing on the envelope; _To my secret admirer_.

He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest as he gingerly opened it.

_Thank you for the notes you've been leaving me. I appreciate that you may wish to remain anonymous, but I am curious as to whom you are. The next time you want to leave me a note, perhaps you could give it to me in person?_

Dean put the note back where he'd found it and went to class, getting detention over lunch for being late.

. * * * .

The note was still sticking out the next day, and the next, and it was constantly on his mind. One day when he was reading under the stairs again with Charlie he caught sight of Cas looking at the note, and dejectedly putting it back.

"Why don't you write a reply to him?" she asked.

"And tell him what?"

"I don't know, because I don't know what he _said_," she pointed out.

He hadn't told her, and both she and Jo had respected his request to not look.

"Can I borrow a pen?" he asked when Cas left.

"So long as you promise me you're not about to write on that book."

"'Course not."

"Okay. Here."

"Keep a look out for me?" he asked, jogging over to Cas's locker after making sure the coast was clear. Below Castiel's comment he replied, _I'm afraid you'll laugh at me_. His heart was pounding as he rejoined her.

"Well?" she asked, taking her pen back.

"Wait and see, I guess," he shrugged.

. * * * .

Dean checked the next day, and Castiel had responded with, _I promise I won't_.

And so their exchange continued over the next few days.

_You wouldn't say that if you knew who I was._

_It takes a great deal of courage to talk to someone you have a crush on. I know. I will not laugh at you._

_Your friends will._

_They are not the one's whose reactions you should be concerned about._

_I doubt you feel the same about me anyway. I guess I just kind of wanted you to know how I feel._

_But what if I do feel the same? I would very much like to know who you are. I will be eating lunch alone tomorrow. Please join me._

It was like a date. Not a date, but like a date.

"It's a date!" Jo grinned. "You've got a date with the hottest guy in school! After you, that is."

"I'm not going," he told her.

"What?!"

"I'm not going."

"But you have to go!"

"No, I don't. And I'm not writing any more notes. I'm done with it, okay?"

. * * * .

Jo watched him walk off with a slump in his shoulders and his feet dragging against the floor. Dean might be done writing notes, but she knew he wasn't done with _Cas_. He thought he kept everything bottled up inside him, but the truth of it was Dean Winchester wore his heart on his sleeve.

It took her five minutes to find Charlie and explain what had happened, and another two to outline her plan.

It took Charlie three seconds to agree to help.

. * * * .

The next day she walked into the canteen and, as promised, Castiel was sitting alone. Charlie had taken Dean out of school for lunch, so Jo determinedly walked over to Castiel's table and sat down.

He looked up hopefully, but his face fell when he saw her.

"So about those love notes," she started.

"I'm gay."

"I know."

"I don't understand-"

"Which is why I need you to shut up and listen to me."

Castiel set his jaw.

"Good. Now I know who it is that sent those notes, but he won't come. No, don't even think about asking me who he is," she said when Cas opened his mouth again. "Instead answer me honestly - if the writer of those notes could be anyone in the school, who would you want it to be?"

. * * * .

Jo and Charlie had maths after lunch, but Dean had a free period which he spent playing chess by himself in the library. That probably made him sound like a loner, which he guessed he kind of was when his two friends weren't around, but he was trying to teach himself to play better. Charlie had been playing her whole life, and always beat him. He'd only started playing six years ago when they met after started high school.

Someone sat down opposite him but he didn't look up because the only three people who would talk to him were in class.

He moved the white rook and captured the black knight.

Another hand appeared and moved a black pawn forward and right one space, removing the white pawn that sat behind it.

He snapped his head up in irritation. "Dude, what the-" His words dissolved into a strangled sound as he realised that it was _Cas_ sitting across from him. Castiel who was staring at him with impossibly blue eyes. "What the hell?" he squeaked.

"En passant," Cas stated simply.

Dean wanted to say that he didn't speak French, or that he didn't know that move, or hell even _hello_, but his mouth seemed to have forgotten how to work. He shook his head.

"Sorry," Cas babbled. "If you're a beginner then you probably don't know that move."

Dean looked back at the board, figuring that it was probably best to say nothing and if Cas wanted to play then he could play. He drew his knight back from the front line.

Cas slid one of his bishops across the board, through the square that the knight had been sitting on, and captured one of Dean's bishops.

"Shit!"

He responded by taking the offending bishop out with his queen, which Castiel promptly claimed with his rook.

"Don't make hasty moves," Castiel advised.

Dean moved a pawn forward.

"Expect your opponent to surprise you and _think_," Cas continued.

"Haven't you got class?" Dean snapped irritably, then bit his lip. Snapping at the guy he liked wasn't the best way to make a good impression.

"I do," Cas told him. "I just chose not to go."

"Why not?"

"Because someone recently told me that I needed to smile more," he replied. He looked Dean straight in the eye. "I was hoping he'd give me a reason to."

Dean's mouth opened and closed like a fish's but no sound came out.

Castiel pulled his rook back.

"Dean, I'm not laughing at you."

"You knew it was me?"

"No. Your friend told me where I could find you. She asked me who I wanted it to be."

Dean stared at him.

"I would like it if you kissed me, Dean." He slid his queen across the board just as the bell rang. "Check mate."

. * * * .

Dean rounded on Jo as soon as she appeared at her locker at the end of the day. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?" he demanded.

"That you deserved a shot!" she yelled at him. "You've liked him for months so I wasn't going to let you just given up!"

"That wasn't your call to make!"

"What did he say?"

"That... Well... He said..."

She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"He said that he wanted me to kiss him," Dean mumbled.

"Aha!" she cried triumphantly.

"What if he'd come to find be to tell me he wasn't interested? To try and let me down gently? I backed off because I couldn't handle it!"

Jo's gaze hardened. "I asked him who he wanted the notes to be from and he said _you_. If he had said anybody else I wouldn't have told him where to find you! You should be _thanking_ me." She slammed her locker door shut and stormed off.

"She's right you know," Charlie said quietly. "She was just looking out for you."

"You were in on it, weren't you?"

She nodded. "Go talk to Cas," she said, nodding across to where Cas was standing awkwardly around in front of his locker. "You can apologise to her tomorrow."

Dean let his head drop against the locker behind him. When he looked up again, Cas was still standing watching him, trying not to look like he was obviously waiting to see if Dean had decided what he wanted to do. Numbly he put one foot in front of the other and stopped in front of Cas.

"Hey," he said nervously.

"Hi," Castiel said back, looking a little relieved.

Dean licked his lips and ran a finger and thumb down Cas's tie, as crooked as ever.

"I hate the way it always sits squint," Cas admitted.

Dean smirked. "You wouldn't look like you if it was straight."

"So are we..?" Cas asked hopefully.

"Let me just get this right," Dean said. "You _liked_ me, even though you didn't know I was gay?"

"I've never seen you go out with any girls," Cas revealed. "I hoped that meant that you weren't straight."

"I always wished I could do what you did, and just come out without caring what people thought."

"I _did_ care, Dean. But it made me miserable, pretending to be someone I wasn't, so I decided that I'd rather be unhappy and honest about who I was than unhappy and living a lie."

"That sounds kind of a profound for a high school jock."

"Why - because I'm supposed to be all brawn and no brains?"

Dean huffed a laugh and averted his gaze.

"It wasn't easy, either," Cas told him. "I lost friends along the way."

Warm fingertips tentatively stroked Dean's fingers, setting his nerves alight.

"I guess they were never really friends, then, huh?" he asked, spreading his fingers and letting Cas slide his own between them.

"No," Cas told him. "I guess they weren't."

Dean stared at him, eyes trapped in his gaze, and licked his lips in anticipation and hope.

"What about your friends?" Cas asked, leaning closer.

Dean could feel his breath ghosting across his skin.

"Jo obviously knows. What about the red-head?"

"Charlie? Yeah, she knows."

"What about your other friends?"

"What others?" Dean joked.

But his attempt at levity fell flat. Instead of laughing Castiel's eyes darkened, and Dean would have taken a step back if he wasn't pressed uncomfortably against his locker.

"You deserve to have people treat you with respect," he growled. "Not like something unpleasant they've stepped in."

"I'm used to being treated like shit," Dean shrugged matter-of-factly.

"I will _always_ treat you with respect," Castiel promised, cupping Dean's face with both hands and kissing him chastely on the lips.

Dean's arms came up instinctively, clutching at the other guy's jacket to keep him close. When Cas pulled away Dean's cheeks were warm and he hoped to hell he wasn't blushing.

"Have you kissed many... people?" Cas asked carefully.

"Oh, yeah. Loads," he bluffed.

"Really?"

Dean deflated a little. "I kissed Jo on the cheek once. We were five and our parents thought it would be cute to dangle mistletoe above us. I guess they thought that we might end up dating when we got older."

"Are they okay with you?"

"They say they are, but it's not like I've ever brought anyone home to meet them."

Castiel nodded to himself.

"What about yours?"

"My parents are divorced. My father got custody, but when I came out he said that no son of his would be a fag so I went to live with my mom."

"That's rough."

"Mm," Cas agreed, obviously unwilling to say any more about it.

"So look, about the, uh..." Dean trailed off, motioning between them. "I wasn't _bad_, right?"

"I'd be happy to help you have a bit more practice," Castiel told him with a smile, leaning in to kiss him again.


End file.
